


for what it's worth

by badbavarois



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Getting Together, M/M, Ned's POV, peter and ned don't know each other, somewhat canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 05:23:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11890926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbavarois/pseuds/badbavarois
Summary: The elevator falls, and Ned falls in love along with it.





	for what it's worth

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this and half way through i got an idea for another soulmate au bc i'm nothing if not predictable

Ned had never been one for heights, but somehow he ends up on an elevator to the top of the Washington Monument after the decathlon. He tries to focus on the ranger’s voice, but even she doesn’t seem thrilled to be in a small metal box full of teenagers. He thinks of MJ three hundred feet below them and climbing - why hadn’t he stayed on the ground with her and listened to her criticize everything it stands for?

 

“From the observation deck, you can see all the way to - “ and then the elevator stops. Ned stumbles, smacking his head against the glass walls. 

 

God, why didn’t he stay with MJ?

 

“We’re going to die,” Flash says, more scared than Ned has ever heard him. 

 

“All of our safety systems are in place,” the park ranger reminds them. “We’re in no danger at all.”

 

Ned wants to call her out on her bullshit - his hands shake as he watches small spider web cracks spread across the glass walls.

 

He just needs to breathe - he can do that. Except he can’t, because God, oh God, they’re all going to die in a fiery explosion when this elevator finally falls.

 

_ In, out. _

 

_ In, out. _

 

_ In -  _

 

And then the elevator drops an inch. Just an inch, but someone still screams, high and short. Overhead, Ned can hear the doors creaking open.

 

The park ranger’s walkie-talkie turns on, but the words are too garbled for Ned to decipher. 

 

“Okay,” the ranger smiles. Ned doesn’t trust it. “We’re going to be climbing out of the elevator one by one. Another ranger will help you up onto the observation platform.”

 

Flash goes first, shoving both Liz Allen and Mr. Harrington out of the way. He struggles to get through the roof hatch on his own, his legs kicking the air in a feeble attempt to gain momentum. Eventually, Mr. Harrington helps him up.

 

One by one, they climb out. Ned forces himself to breathe, to ignore the creaking of the elevator, the cracking of the glass. The elevator slides down a few centimeters or so every time someone goes through the roof hatch.

 

It’s just him, Liz and the teacher left in the shaft when the elevator falls again, hard and fast and  _ terrifying  _ until something catches him, yanking them back up a few inches. Ned glances up; is that - ?

 

“Spiderwebs,” Liz whispers. “Does that mean - ?”

 

And then Spider Man falls in through the emergency exit, alongside a piece of the elevator doors from up on the observation platform. The elevator drops a few more feet before stopping. 

 

Slowly, Spider Man pulls the elevator up. Ned’s fingers twitch - he wishes he could help, but distracting Spider Man for even a millisecond could lead to certain death, so he closes his eyes and keeps reminding himself to breathe.

 

He opens his eyes again when the elevator stops, level with the observation platform. Ned is the last non-superhero off the elevator. He turns around to thank Spider man. Instead, his voice catches in his throat as he stares at Spider Man’s upside down head.

 

“You’re - “ Ned starts, but then the elevator falls, taking Spider Man with him.

 

…

 

They’re told to wait outside of the monument for a few hours as everyone is checked over by ambulance crews. Search and rescue dogs comb through the wreckage with their handlers. 

 

Ned breathes a sigh of relief when Spider Man isn’t found.

 

…

 

He stares into the hotel mirror, takes a deep breath and says, “My soulmate is Spider Man.”

 

It sounds too good to be true.

 

…

 

He’s back in Queens the next afternoon. The decathlon team stops by the school to be congratulated for their victory.

 

“I’m so sorry about the tragic incident at the Washington Monument,” the principal says, more to cover his own ass than to actually be sincere. “I’m just thankful you all made it home safe.”

 

He gets lunch with his parents afterward. They never let him drift further than arm’s length and tell him they love him to fill every lull in conversation. 

 

He drifts through it, barely aware of the time or the people passing just outside the window. Ned thinks less about the elevator and more about Spider Man himself, and the warmth that had filled his chest.

 

Spider Man, an avenger, Queens’ local hero,  _ Ned’s  _ hero. What did Ned Leeds do to deserve him? He isn’t saving anyone - he isn’t anywhere close to Spider Man’s league. He goes to Midtown Tech and competes in decathlon and wants to major in computer science and build legos until he dies, surrounded by cats. 

 

Ned isn’t a hero. 

 

“What’s on your mind?” his mom asks, dragging him back to the surface.  

 

“Oh,” he swallows, looking at his parents. They’ve known each other since grad school and fit together like 2 pieces of a chemistry themed puzzle. 

 

“Ned?”

 

They’re perfect for each other.

 

“Nothing, sorry. I’ve just been a bit spacey since  - since the accident. You know how it is.”

 

His mother frowns. “About that, you father and I have been talking about sending you to therapy.”

 

“What?” He jerks back in his chair. “I’m  _ fine.  _ 100% fine.”    
  
“Therapy is perfectly normal, honey,” his mom says. “You went through a lot. If it weren’t for Spider Man, we could have lost you forever. Having someone to talk to and help you work through all of your emotions can have a really positive impact.”

 

“Both your mom and I went to therapy,” his dad reminds him. “This isn’t something you have to go through alone.”

 

…

 

So, two days later he’s sitting in a fourth-floor therapist office, dark gray industrial carpeting stretching wall to wall. She’s taller than him, her dark curly hair pulled into some overly complicated updo. She smiles, but it feels cold, clinical and sterile. 

 

“How are you today, Edward?”

 

“I go by Ned,” he says, before remembering the question. “I’m fine.”

 

“That’s good to hear, Ned.” She types something on her computer, fast and rhythmic like gunfire, not looking up from her screen.

 

He’s hyper aware of everything around him, of everything he does and says. She’s taking it all in, judging every corner of his identity. He calms his breathing but there’s little he can do to change his racing heartbeat.

 

“Do you know why you’re here today?” she asks, finally looking up from her computer.

 

“My parents made me come.”

 

“But, they sent you for a reason, didn’t they? Our parents don’t just send us off to counseling for no reason,” she jokes.

 

He thinks for a second, trying to find the words to explain the answer already resting on his tongue. “My parents think I’ll develop PTSD from being in the elevator when it broke at the Washington Monument.” 

 

She writes something down, nodding her head. “They did mention that on the phone while scheduling your appointment. Do you think they are correct?”

 

It takes less than a second for him to respond. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

 

“Why not?” she presses, typing again. “Lots of people would, in your situation. Post traumatic stress disorder is very common.”

 

“Because I’m fine now.”

 

“What do you mean by fine?”

 

“I wasn’t hurt - physically. There were a few cuts, bruises, but they’re gone now.”

 

“Just because you can’t see an injury doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Not everything is as easy to spot as a cast or crutches.”

 

Ned knows she’s right, but he wishes she wasn’t.

 

…

 

He scrolled through Twitter until three in the morning, watching videos of Spider Man zipping through Queens. He’s half through a trap remix when he finally slams his laptop shut.

 

Ned stares at the ceiling for another hour, wishing he had a way to contact him, but no one knows who Spider Man is. There are dozens of fake accounts on every social media platform, but Ned isn’t stupid enough to believe that any of them will actually get back to the avenger. 

 

He falls asleep knowing every idea he could ever possibly have is a dead end.

 

…

 

He runs into Spider Man at the bodega down the street from his apartment of all places. 

 

Ned drops his sandwich at the feeling, the sudden warmth flooding his stomach. Spider Man catches it, smiling.

 

“I’m Peter.”

 

…

 

By four o’clock that afternoon, he has Spider Man’s number in his phone and Peter Parker’s mouth on his.

 

…

 

“What’s up with you?” MJ asks during lunch the next day. She has her AP Euro textbook propped against her bag. She’s covering it in highlighter and annotating. Ned read some of it once -  _ ‘wrong; your view is Eurocentric; you’re not even close.’ _

 

He bites down on his smile. “I met my soulmate.”

 

“Soulmates are fake and were invented by capitalism to control people and their spending habits,” she rattles off on impulse. His smile drops until she adds, “But, I’m happy for you.”

 

…

 

Ned and Peter are building Legos - the updated version of the  _ Death Star  _ \- on a Saturday afternoon, their thighs pressed against each other as they work. 

 

They don’t talk much - Karen is playing music through the suit’s speakers from where it’s draped over a chair.

 

“Were you okay,” Peter asks, breaking the silence, “after the whole monument thing?”

 

“Yeah, just a few scratches,” he says, snapping together a Han Solo minifigure. He already has three, but a few more won’t hurt. Besides, he could always give it to Peter.

 

“I’m sorry,” Peter says. He’s fidgeting with Princess Leia, bending her legs backward and forwards, twisting her hair around her head.

 

“Why?” Peter’s leg is warm. Ned wants to kiss him again.

 

“Because I wasn’t there sooner. If i had been there earlier, it wouldn’t have happened, and you - “

 

“Peter,” Ned says, grabbing Peter’s hands so he drops the minifigure. “You did everything in your power to save me.”

 

“But  I - “ Peter’s hands are shaking.

 

“If it weren’t for you,” Ned says, cutting Peter off, “I would have died before we ever met.”

 

Neither of them speak for a few minutes. Ned lets go of Peter’s hands so they can resume work on the  _ Death Star,  _ Peter handing the pieces to Ned as he needs them. 

 

“Ned?”

 

“Yeah?” He turns to look at Peter, but the next thing he knows, Peter’s hands are on his cheek and chin, pulling him close. Ned’s eyes flutter shut and Peter’s mouth is soft and warm and insistent. 

 

When they finally pull away, Ned says, “For what it’s worth, I’m glad it happened.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr - c10p & claude-lit  
> twitter - cactixix


End file.
